Swiffer Wetjet + vomit + hardwood = skating rink.

Don’t try this at home.

First, she suggested that I go back to my family doctor, since he’s no longer away.

My own family doctor doesn’t believe in auto-immune illnesses. He treats one symptom at a time, with the veiled suggestion that it’s actually all just due to some weakness in my character that I can’t get well.
He has no interest in whether or not the antibiotic he prescribes for a respiratory infection will cause a chain reaction in some other specialist’s department. I’ve already HAD one utterly ineffective round of oral antibiotics from my family doctor. I suspect that’s why I’m even sicker now. We’re building superbugs by inadequately treating them as they come along.

The nurse was very sympathetic, and PROMISED me she would follow up with all of my doctor’s to see if we couldn’t get ONE to stand up and say THIS IS MY PATIENT, I AM RESPONSIBLE, and find out which drugs, if any, were safe to take for the raging infection that’s currently running unchecked all through me. Don’t start the Cloxicillin.

That was five hours ago.

I’m getting sicker.

No one has called.

No one is answering their phone. Every four hours I take a sleeping pill. (same medication that’s in Benadryl, just a higher dose) It clears the worst of the congestion in my head and ears, and knocks me out so nothing else bothers me. So far, that’s all the help I’m getting.

For the record, Scotchguard repels neither snot, nor Play-Doh.

Owen has finally named the small cat as well.

He calls him “Low Fat.”

I think it’s a toddlerism for “Little Cat.”

Still, “Big Fat” and “Low Fat” for our two beasties makes me giggle.

I will not use baby wipes to clean up toothpaste.
I will not use baby wipes to clean up toothpaste.
I will not use baby wipes to clean up toothpaste.
I will not use baby wipes to clean up toothpaste.
I will not use baby wipes to clean up toothpaste.
I will not use baby wipes to clean up toothpaste.
I will not use baby wipes to clean up toothpaste.
I will not use baby wipes to clean up toothpaste.
I will not use baby wipes to clean up toothpaste.
I will not use baby wipes to clean up toothpaste.
I will not use baby wipes to clean up toothpaste.
I will not use baby wipes to clean up toothpaste.
I will not use baby wipes to clean up toothpaste.
I will not use baby…….whoooooops!!!!!!

Never leave toothpaste where the baby can reach it.

You scored as Freyr. Freyr 70% Balder 70% Odin 70% Bragi 60% Tyr 60% Thor 60% Frigg 50% Heimdall 50% Freya 50% Njord 50% Loki 40% Sif 40% Skadi 30% Hel 20%

Which Pagan God or Goddess are you most like?
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Knock yourself out!

Everyone should have a role model. Role models inspire and motivate us to be the best person we can be. They share our values, and serve as examples of those qualities we ourselves would like to embody.

My son’s current hero, his favourite personality in all the world right now is Bob the Builder.

Up until about a month ago, I was still pretty sure it was me, but lately it’s become pretty clear that I’ve been replaced in his affections.

He still loves me, I know that, but he loves me more when I’m wearing his yellow hard hat.

He still smiles when he says “Mama”, but he is absolutely wracked with delight every time he says “Bob”.

I suppose that means Momliness is next to Bobliness.

I keep watching with him, trying to figure out the appeal, or at least discern which truly admirable characteristics his hero might be teaching him. I can’t figure it out. Bob’s a socially awkward enabler who doesn’t know how to say no, even when he should, and who will NEVER get the girl, because he’s too big of a dope to just act on his feelings. His best friends are his cat, and his talking construction equipment. I’m not sure this is the male role model I want my son to idolize.

Owen, in the meantime, has begun talking to all of his toys, and is starting to show some frustration at the lack of a response.

I suppose it could be worse.

I have a friend who’s son discovered his little boy bits at the exact same moment he discovered a set of Mister Potato Head eyes. She was at a complete loss as to what to do when her son called her into his room saying “Mama, come see what I can do!”

I remember her asking me “And just WHAT, as a responsible parent, was I supposed to do? He was so proud of himself, having jammed that little post right in, and all I could think was ‘…and I packed your angry eyes, just in case…’ Does that make me a bad mother?”

I think she did what any sane mother would do. Called her husband to come and talk to HIS son, then locked herself in the bathroom to laugh.

I, of course, would have taken pictures first. You never know if you’re going to need blackmail material down the line.

Alright, so today was my first day back at work in over three months. Still only a half day, but it was enough! Up at 5:30, baby to his first day at the new daycare by 7:45. Felt awful about it, he was crying when I left.
Made it to work for 8:30, and by the time I arrived already felt like I’d run a marathon. The hot flashes I’m still getting (both the disease and the drugs cause them)ensured that any attempt I’d made at makeup or hair were long gone by the time I found my desk.
I had over 3000 emails to delete.
I can’t remember how anything works.
Because I’ve switched computers 3 times while I’ve been away, all my “favourites” for internet research are gone. I’ve been gone so long I don’t remember most of them. Took me all morning just to figure out how to navigate computer system again, and get all my passwords re-instated.
By the time I got home at two, ready to crawl back into bed and die.
My knees are killing me and my arms are like jell-o again.
Still have to get dinner started, get to the grocery store and should eventually vacuum the half inch of cat-hair out of the main floor.
I’m also full of the cold I picked up at Owen’s new daycare last week.
I took him in to visit for two days prior to his official start date today.
Wednesday last week I stayed with him while he met his new friends.
The new friends, all 15 of whom appeared to have the same cold, decided to pile on the new lady.
Toddlers can smell fresh meat.
The drugs I’m on to control this flare up essentially kill my immune system. There’s no other way to get it to stop attacking me.
I think I caught all fifteen of the little bugger’s colds.
So in short, THAT’S why there’s been no update here in over a week.